A remark generally hurts in proportion to its truth.

Plums? St Johns Park, New Town. February 2011.

I don’t have anything, so here is a questionnaire.

1. Is there anything you wanted growing up from Santa that you never got?
Probably a swimming pool, but it was always a tough ask.

2. Where is the best place you've ever vacationed?
I enjoyed Germany and the Czech Republic very much.

3. Where is your favourite place to go when you need some time to yourself?
Myself? Huh…?

Probably a beach somewhere.

4. What is the current book you are reading, and your favourite book?

As I type this, Victor Pelevin’s The Blue Lantern. I don’t have a single favourite book, but Catch-22, Lolita, If This is a Man, The Tin Drum, Darkness at Noon, For Whom The Bell Tolls, Things Fall Apart and about thirty others make the short list.

5. What is your favourite element?

Nitrogen is always good fun.

6. Do you believe in aliens from other planets and what do you think they look like?

Well, logic would suggest that if it could happen on one planet, circumstances could well arise elsewhere. I’m not a believer in them visiting here all the time though.

7. What did you hope to be, what was your dream job when you were younger?

Opening the bat for Australia in the summer, full back for Essendon in the winter, fronting a successful (both critically and commercially) musical combo and general fancy man of assorted supermodels.

Time’s running out.

8. Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

Tired, vaguely frustrated and surround by humungous shoes.

9. What is your favourite Disney movie?

Finding Nemo, although all of the Toy Story films are great.

10. What is the best dessert you've ever eaten?

I can’t go past a well done crème brûlée.

Comments

smudgeon said…

Would you settle for a solo pop career and being criticised for being too commercial?

23 February 2011 at 10:36

Kris McCracken said…

Yeah, at this point I can't afford to be too picky...

25 February 2011 at 09:32

Hold me now, oh hold me now, until this hour has gone around. And I'm gone on the rising tide, to face Van Dieman's Land

Theme Thursday again, and this one is rather easy. I am Tasmanian, you see, and aside from being all around general geniuses - as I have amply described previously - we are also very familiar with the concept of WATER. Tasmania is the ONLY island state of an ISLAND continent. That means, we're surrounded by WATER. That should help explain why I take so many photographs of water . Tasmania was for a long time the place where the British (an island race terrified of water) sent their poor people most vile and horrid criminals. The sort of folk who would face the stark choice of a death sentence , or transportation to the other end of the world. Their catalogue of crimes is horrifying : stealing bread assault stealing gentlemen's handkerchiefs drunken assault being poor affray ladies being overly friendly with gentlemen for money hitting people having a drink and a laugh public drunkenness being Irish Fenian terrorist activities being Catholic religious subversion. ...

Something unpleasant is coming when men are anxious to tell the truth.

This is the moon. Have I mentioned how much I adore the zoom on my camera? It's Theme Thursday you see, and after last week's limp effort, I have been thinking about how I might redeem myself. Then I clicked on the topic and discover that it was BUTTON. We've been hearing a lot about the moon in the past couple of weeks. Apparently some fellas went up there and played golf and what-not forty-odd years ago. The desire to get to the moon, however, was not simply about enhancing opportunities for Meg and Mog titles and skirting local planning by-laws in the construction of new and innovative golf courses. No, all of your Sputniks , "One small steps" and freeze dried ice cream was about one thing , and one thing only : MAD Now, I don't mean mad in terms of "bloke breaks record for number of scorpions he can get up his bum", no I mean MAD as in Mutual assured destruction . When I was a young man you see, there was a lot of talk about the type of m...

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral...

This will hurt me...

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